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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072869">seeking humanity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratbandaid/pseuds/ratbandaid'>ratbandaid</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(kind of!), Adventurer!Claude, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods &amp; Goddesses, God!Dimitri, God(dess) of Death, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strangers to Lovers, very tentative title</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:55:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072869</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratbandaid/pseuds/ratbandaid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ailell was once a beautiful valley teeming with trees bearing plump, sweet fruits and colorful blooms and tall, soft grasses. The water from the mountains trickled down through the valley. It was clear and glittered in the sunlight, often surrounded by peaceful animals seeking a refreshing drink. It was a peaceful, beautiful place filled with all sorts of natural beauty and even a few small villages.</p><p>And then Ailell began to rot. Animals and plants started to die. Corpses and bones and were visibly scattered about the ground. The water became dark and murky and reeked of blood. Even the skies above Ailell seemed to become permanently smoky, dark, and dreary, no matter how nice the weather seemed in nearby villages.</p><p>And strangely, people who stepped foot into Ailell were never heard from again.</p><p>Claude is determined to figure out what is going on.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>77</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I've always wanted to write a whole dmcl fic, but I was worried about my characterization of them since I don't think I know them as well as I know Sylvain and Felix. ^^;; This idea seemed like too much fun to pass up so here it is!!  <s>Fun fact: This is actually based on an idea I had for some of my OCs!</s> </p><p>I changed the geography of Ailell for this. It's going to be less of a volcanic hellhole and more of a forest with lots of rot and decay. (I'll get into more details in the actual fic.) </p><p>Hope you enjoy!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claude has always been careful. His every word, every move, every single little <em>breath</em> has been calculated and thoroughly thought through. Even if his plans aren’t the most conventional plans, they’re thorough, cautious, and get the results he wants.</p><p>Perhaps that’s why he finds himself risking his life now, heading up a dirty, beaten path towards Ailell, the Valley of Torment.</p><p>Ailell was once a beautiful valley teeming with trees bearing plump, sweet fruits and colorful blooms and tall, soft grasses. The water from the mountains trickled down through the valley. It was clear and glittered in the sunlight, often surrounded by peaceful animals seeking a refreshing drink. It was a peaceful, beautiful place filled with all sorts of natural beauty and even a few small villages.</p><p>And then something happened.</p><p>Ailell began to rot. Animals and plants started to die. Corpses and bones and were visibly scattered about the ground. The water became dark and murky and reeked of blood. Even the skies above Ailell seemed to become permanently smoky, dark, and dreary, no matter how nice the weather seemed in nearby villages.</p><p>It was once a beautiful valley of life. Now it’s a valley of ashes and death, of corpses and despair—the Valley of Torment, as people have nicknamed it.</p><p>And worse, still, people who stepped foot into Ailell were never heard from again.</p><p>It had become notorious for taking the lives of all men who enter for the past few years—you can enter, but you’re guaranteed never to be seen again. At least, not alive. Perhaps your spirit would come and haunt your loved ones in their dreams, but your body was never to be seen. No one knows what haunts Ailell or what hunts the travelers who simply wish to pass through as no one’s lived to tell the tale. All that’s known is that Ailell is rotting and dying, and going near that valley was a death sentence.</p><p>Word of mouth spread, desperate warnings and speculations ranging from religious curses set upon the land to a plague devastating the wildlife to a savage group of cannibals, and after five years of what was deemed the “corruption” of Ailell, practically everyone on the continent knew of it. Scholars and mages and everyone in-between have been talking about the valley, but from all the research and exploration journals that Claude’s read through, no one’s been able to figure out what is in Ailell.</p><p>Claude doesn’t know much about Ailell, but he distinctly remembers passing through it several times when he was younger. He remembers playing in the clean water, nabbing fruits off branches, and seeing the soft rabbits peeking at him from behind bushes or the deer serenely sipping water from the river or even a few foxes dipping and dashing and dancing just out of the corner of his eye. It was always a pleasant place. He’d even had a special hiding spot, just for him and him alone when he wanted to think—a small clearing amongst bushes that led him to a beautiful view of the night sky, where stars winked at him and where the moon smiled upon him.</p><p>To think that such a beautiful place has become hell on Fodlan—it just doesn’t make sense.</p><p>Claude has always been careful, calculated, smart—but he’s always been curious too.</p><p>People scorn his curiosity, calling him stupid for wanting to find out what’s in Ailell, but he cares not for what people say about him anymore.</p><p>He hasn’t cared since he left the Riegen territory.</p><p>He halted his travels—to be honest, he doesn’t particularly have an objective other than to explore and survive another day—and promptly made a detour for Ailell. It took him a little longer than he would have liked, going from a visit to a friend in the Gautier territory to Ailell, and the change in weather was certainly jarring, but he’s coming upon it.</p><p>Even though he’s simply walking up the path, even though he’s not quite at Ailell yet, he swears he can feel an odd aura about the land, something sinister pulling him closer. With every little step forward, more and more patches of the grass lining the path becomes grey and brown. With every little step forward, he can smell the rotting corpses of a few animals, can hear the vultures cawing and feasting on the bodies. With every little step forward, he sees more and more of the valley looming in the distance, a huge, dreary forest crammed between two, large mountains.</p><p>Ailell is impossible to miss. It is preceded by hundreds of handmade, dilapidated warning signs stuck into the decaying grass and dirt, some tacked into or tacked from what’s left of the barren and blackened trees. They promise death, death, misery. They warn that there’s no escape, that if you wish to turn back, you must do so immediately. One of the signs even claims that the curse from stepping onto the valley will spread to one’s family.</p><p>Claude is undeterred.</p><p>As Claude nears the entrance of the valley, he spots a group of young boys standing there. They bicker and banter, and eventually, one of the boys puffs out his chest. Claude slows his steps, a small smirk growing on his face.</p><p>“Betcha I can go in there and come right back out,” the boy is saying, and the other boys immediately start to mock him. “I’ll live! Watch me! I’m no chicken like you guys or your moms!”</p><p>Claude watches as the smallest of the boys grabs the boasting boy’s arm, his eyes rife with worry. He whimpers that he’s scared, that their mom specifically said<em> not</em> to go near the valley, that he wants to go home. The boy doesn't seem to care at all.</p><p> “Hey.”</p><p>The boys jump a little and turn to face Claude, who raises an eyebrow. He knows his amused, foxlike smirk hasn’t left his face, but he doesn’t mind.</p><p>“What are a bunch of kids like you doing out here?”</p><p>“We’re gonna go in the forest!” the boasting boy—Claude assumes he’s the ringleader of this group of boys—tells him, his eyes shining with determination, shining in that way that little kids' eyes tend to when showing off to someone older. “There’s nothin’ in there! I just know it!”</p><p>The smallest boy winces and tugs the boasting boy’s arm. “But Mom said—”</p><p>“I don’t care what she said,” he huffs. He looks up at Claude, as if waiting for some kind of reply.</p><p><em>Are you looking for some kind of validation?</em> Claude wonders. <em>Authority? Advice?</em> Claude chuckles to himself. <em>Or are you waiting for me to tell you not to?</em></p><p>Claude, hatching a plan in his head, just shrugs. “Huh. That so? Well, if there’s nothing in there, it should be safe, right? Go on ahead.” He gestures towards the valley with a sweep of his arm. “Just know that if something gets you, no one can help you.”</p><p>The boys stare at him, wide-eyed. Then, they all share a look of uncertainty, fear, discomfort. The smallest one furrows his brows.</p><p>“No one?” he echoes. “Not even you?”</p><p>It seems to be a question that lingers in all the boys' expressions, even that of the boy with the bravado.</p><p>“Me?” Claude feigns a look of shock. “What can I do? The signs say that I shouldn’t go in so I’ll stand right out here.”</p><p>“Then why are you even here?” the boasting boy demands.</p><p>“I’m an artist,” Claude lies easily, “I was going to paint a picture of this valley to give to a friend who’s studying this place.” He shakes his head. “He told me that I’d definitely die if I step one foot into that valley so I was going to sit out here and watch.”</p><p>Another ripple of unease.</p><p>“Maybe we shouldn’t go in,” one of them says quietly. A few other boys nod along in agreement, but the boasting boy scoffs.</p><p>“Maybe you’re all just chickens! I’ll go in.” He takes a few steps towards the entrance of the valley, though his steps are unsure and small and his hands are visibly starting to tremble. He flicks his gaze back, as if waiting for his friends or Claude to dissuade him. When no one moves, he turns towards the valley again.</p><p>Claude steps towards him silently. The boy doesn’t notice, too busy staring out at the valley with terror in his eyes. Claude leans in slowly. The boy doesn’t move a muscle.</p><p>“Boo.”</p><p>The boy jumps with a small shriek. Claude smiles as the boy hurries away from the entrance of the valley, joining his group of friends with wide eyes.</p><p>Claude puts a hand on his hip, turning to the group of boys.</p><p>“Alright. You’ve had your fun, but you clearly know how scary and dangerous this place is. Go home already.”</p><p>The boys don’t move.</p><p>Claude gives a small sigh. “You know if you go into this valley, you won’t come back, right? They put these signs here for a reason—this place is dangerous.” Claude gets no response from the boys, though he can see that shame and fear are starting to make themselves present on their faces. “If you enter this valley, that means no more delicious, home-cooked meals with your family, no more fun games, no more friends to play with.” He raises an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that sound kind of lonely? Boring? Scary?”</p><p>Their stubbornness slowly fades into submission, into surrender.</p><p>“You have families waiting for you. You have your whole lives ahead of you. You have so much, and here you are, trying to throw all of it away by doing something you <em>know</em> you shouldn't. Don’t be stupid and go home.”</p><p>The boys reluctantly turn around, but Claude doesn’t move a single step from the entrance until he sees them leave. Their spirits are low after getting scolded, but as their figures slowly getting smaller in the distance, they start chatting and laughing and horsing around.</p><p>When Claude is entirely sure that they’ve left, he picks up his backpack, slings it over his shoulder, and turns to face the start of the forest, the entrance to Ailell. He looks up at the foreboding skies, at the shriveled black trees and their claw-like branches, at the vultures circling overhead.</p><p>Then he takes his first steps into Ailell.</p><p>He walks around, looks around. It looks much worse than it did from the outside. The rot only seems to get worse and worse the farther into the valley he travels, as if the heart of the valley bears the brunt of the decay. The metallic stench of blood and decay get stronger and stronger; spatters of blood and indiscernible things—<em>are… are those organs?</em>—clutter the floor; miscellaneous objects, like lost shoes and backpacks and scraps of clothes, create a mess along the dry, cracked dirt.</p><p>It’s entirely too silent. There’s almost no sound at all, save for the sound of his steps and the crunching of dead leaves and branches beneath him. It feels like every noise he makes carries out throughout the entire valley.</p><p>It’s entirely too dark, too cold. Just a few minutes ago, while he was walking up towards the valley, he had been feeling the warmth of the summer’s setting sun against his skin. A golden glow had been just about everywhere, caught in the blades of grass and the mountains and even the hair of the boys from earlier.</p><p>It’s entirely too empty. Ailell was once a busy valley, filled with merchants traveling by and villagers and animals and—</p><p>Claude halts immediately. A chill runs through his spine as he swiftly turns around. He sees nothing, but seeing how the whip-like branches of the rotting trees are swaying ever so slightly, it’s undeniable.</p><p>There’s something following him.</p><p>Perhaps it’s not as empty as he initially thought.</p><p><em>No, that’s stupid,</em> Claude chides himself. He flicks his gaze towards the path before him. There are a few corpses littering the ground. A few are staring up despondently at the sky; a few are face-down in the dirt as they slowly decompose into the earth; a few are staring at him, as if they’re trying to persuade him to leave, to warn him of the dangers here, to beg him to save himself. Claude feels sick as he forces himself to look away.<em> No one’s here. Everything here is long-dead.</em></p><p>He pauses.<em> Unless one of those brats followed me… </em>He frowns. <em>No. I saw them leave. They couldn’t possibly have made it back so fast…</em></p><p>Claude forces himself to keep on walking along the path, though he keeps an eye and an ear out for anything out of place. <em>If any of those kids followed me here…</em> Claude shakes his head. <em>They’re just some clumsy kids. I would have noticed them earlier.</em></p><p>Nothing particularly happens as he wanders around the forest. That eerie feeling of being intently <em>watched</em> doesn’t leave him, but Claude can’t find anyone around him.</p><p>Yet, he’s alive. No god nor goddess has struck him down where he stands. No disease has forced itself into his lungs. No blood-thirsty cannibal has lunged out at him. Nothing’s happened. It doesn’t look like anything’s going to happen either.</p><p>After what seems like an hour of aimlessly walking around in circles, getting lost amongst the identical trees, Claude finds a strange clearing. A rickety, wooden bridge connects the dirt path he’s on to what looks like a temple, covered in moss and surrounded by a shallow swamp of murky, stagnant water with disgusting insects buzzing and writhing about the water’s surface. What was once bright, white paint upon the temple is now yellowed and sickly with a few collapsed parts and missing paint chips.</p><p><em>What’s a temple, divine and sacred, doing here? Amidst all the death and decay and torment? Is this all that’s in Ailell now? Is this what houses the thing killing everyone?</em> Claude runs a hand through his hair as he looks down at the bridge before him.</p><p>He flicks his gaze up to the sky. It’s starting to get dark. If he wants to continue his investigation of Ailell, he might as well pick a place to spend the night—and the temple looks like a promising shelter.  </p><p>He tentatively takes a step on the bridge. It lets out a groan under the weight of his foot.</p><p>“You shouldn’t have come.”</p><p>Claude jumps and turns quickly, reaching for the dagger at his belt. He’s startled at the sight of a figure so pale he can nearly see through him, at the sight of a boy no older than he. His clothes are ripped into tatters, and his body is marred with grotesque injuries. He looks so real—yet, he leaves no shadow, no imprint on the dirt beneath him.</p><p><em>A ghost?</em> Claude furrows his brows.</p><p>“Do you <em>want</em> to die? Run. Run away!” The ghost reaches out to Claude, but when his hands slip through past Claude’s, Claude’s suspicions are confirmed. “Hurry! He’s coming,” the ghost continues desperately. “He’ll—he’ll kill you!”</p><p>“Who is?”</p><p>The ghost lets out a frustrated growl. “There’s no time to explain! You must leave! Now!” The ghost looks visibly upset when Claude makes no move to leave. “Why are you still here?”</p><p>Claude steadies himself, steadies the way his heart is nervously thumping in his chest, and locks eyes with the ghost. “I need to know what’s going on here.”</p><p>“You… You’re stupid.” The ghost’s eyes soften, and the snarl on his face fades, revealing a defeated, sad look. “Haven’t you seen enough?” he asks weakly as he begins to fade into the air in thin, white wisps.</p><p>Claude stares at the vacant space before him. It’s unnerving that a ghost had just shown up before him, begging him to leave—<em>am I losing my mind? was that real?</em>—but he has a single clue about what’s in Ailell. Someone who wants to kill him.</p><p>It's ironic though. He had been persuading kids to leave the area earlier, and now someone else is doing so to him. They won't sway his mind, though. It's unfortunate, but it's how he's always been.</p><p>Claude turns back to the bridge and takes a small breath. He starts to cross.</p><p>The bridge is surprisingly sturdy despite how old it looks. It creaks underneath his feet with every step, and it sways and jiggles with every little movement, but it doesn’t snap. Claude ignores the pesky flies and mosquitoes that swarm him, ignores the irritating buzzing and the disgusting noises of bugs in the swamp, and crosses the bridge to get towards the temple.</p><p>As he nears the temple, he faintly picks up the sound of the bridge creaking again, the same way that it had while he was walking on it. It creaks once, twice, thrice. He freezes and turns.</p><p>But no one is there.</p><p>Claude frowns but keeps his gaze glued on the bridge, which is swaying gently despite Claude having gotten off it a moment ago. He makes his way up the steps of the temple. He tears his gaze off the bridge and instead looks to the temple entrance. There’s a door, but there isn’t a doorknob.</p><p>Claude considers this. There could be someone inside, but there’s no telling if they’d be a friend or a foe. Knocking would draw attention. It might get him into a tight spot. Guess he’ll have to skip niceties.</p><p>He pushes lightly against the door. It swings open easily with a groan.</p><p>He keeps his wits about him as he steps into the temple, soft and silent steps into the dark temple.</p><p>The temple door slams behind him unprompted. Claude’s heartrate spikes, and dread creeps up from inside him, constricting his chest. He makes his way to the door and pushes, pulls, kicks—anything to try and budge it. It doesn’t move.</p><p>Claude clicks his tongue in frustration and turns to the rest of the temple. It’s dark as night, cold as ice, silent as a cemetery; it’s completely devoid of life and light. The light from outside doesn’t stream in either—there aren’t any windows.</p><p>Claude sets his backpack on the ground and blindly digs through it, feeling for anything he can use to start a fire. After a minute of reaching around, he grasps his flint and a branch. He takes his dagger, cuts a strip of cloth from one of his shirts in his bag, and wraps the cloth around the branch. He strikes his dagger against the flint until sparks fly onto the cloth.</p><p>It takes a few moments, the room around him practically swallowing any light he creates, but eventually, he manages to get the flame to stay on his makeshift torch. Claude packs up his belongings, slings his bag over his shoulder, and blindly starts forward.</p><p>Even with the torch in his hand, he finds that he can barely see a foot in front of him. It’s better than nothing, he supposes, especially since it’s warmer with the fire around.</p><p>The inside of the temple is wide. The marble columns are cracked; the granite flooring is stained and crumbling. Engravings and tapestries line the walls of the temple, though with how cracked a few engravings are and how torn and dusty the tapestries are, it’s clear that no one has been here for years. He wonders what they say, what they mean. He can’t decipher them.</p><p>In the very back of the temple, Claude finds another door. Naturally, he opens it and ventures in.</p><p>This room, surprisingly, is lit. A light from above falls and illuminates a black, empty throne, decorated with sapphires and gold at the head. Well, Claude supposes it isn’t completely empty. There’s a skull sitting on the seat. Claude wonders what this throne room is supposed to be for—or, rather,<em> who</em> it is for.</p><p>Claude debates if taking a seat in the throne is a bad idea.</p><p>“You.”</p><p>A gruff voice directly behind Claude, simply put, scared him shitless. He jolts and turns to face the speaker, his heartbeat racing in his chest so hard that he can hear it in his ears, feel it in his cheeks and hands.</p><p>A tall, hooded male with a battered cape stands there before poor Claude, imposing and threatening. Claude’s eyes stayed glued to the man as he eyes him and slowly circles him, in the same way that a hungry lion circles his prey. When the man’s face is better lit by the torches as he walks, Claude sees a flash of blonde hair and a small wedge of black over one of the man’s eyes, a stark contrast to his pale skin.</p><p>“Where the hell do you think you are?” he asks in a low voice, a thinly veiled threat.</p><p>“Ailell, the Valley of Torment,” Claude answers simply, “but I’ll be honest—I don’t really know what this temple is.”</p><p>“This is my home,” he snarls out, and Claude feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up as his heart beat jumps up again, “and this will be your <em>grave</em>.”</p><p>Claude feels that he probably isn't welcome here. He placatingly raises his hands. “Look, I’m sorry that I’m trespassing. I didn’t know anyone lived here.” He pauses a beat. Despite the frigid fear gripping his heart, he can’t help himself from asking, “Who are you anyway?”</p><p>"Me?” The man straightens his back and towers over Claude. “I am the God of Death.” His voice seems to echo through the empty temple. The room temperature drops sharply, and the light on the throne dims significantly. Along the walls of the room, torches are lit one-by-one, unprompted by anyone.</p><p>Claude looks around, shocked at the strange happenings around him, and he frowns, turning back to the disgruntled man before him. “God of Death? In Ailell?” He gives a small hum. “You’re the one who’s been killing all these people,” Claude concludes needlessly.</p><p>The god doesn’t says nothing in response, instead looking irritated by Claude’s revelation.</p><p>“And I’m assuming you want to kill me, too?” Claude doesn’t bother waiting for a response. “Well, what’s the reasoning for this, O Unholy One?” The god narrows his gaze at Claude. “I’m sure that being a god controlling who lives and dies warrants some death, but this seems excessive, wiping out everyone who steps foot into this valley.”</p><p>The god stares at him deeply. He eyes Claude up and down. “You... There is something odd about you." The god seems to struggle with his thoughts for a second, furrowing his brows. "You do not fear me," he says. </p><p>Claude gives a small shrug. “I guess I don't.” To be fair, he had practically told himself that he would die the second he stepped into Ailell the entire trip from Gautier to this valley. It’s not the peppiest talk he could have given himself, but it was realistic. He'd convinced himself that he'd die within minutes, seconds even, of entering. He's actually surprised that he lived this long.</p><p>The god lets out an uninterested huff and stalks over to his throne, tossing the skull in Claude’s general direction. Claude manages to just barely dodge it, the skull slamming into the wall behind him and shattering into hundreds off little pieces. Claude whistles a little.</p><p><em>What kind of monstrous strength is that? He barely moved his arm, and it practically exploded!</em> Claude frowns.<em> Okay, moving forward, I need to be more careful. I really don't know what this man, this</em> god<em> is capable of.</em></p><p>“What could possibly interest you about the deaths in Ailell?” the god sneers, taking a seat on the throne. He rests his cheek against his first from the armrest of the throne, and his hood falls away, revealing his full face—his sharp jawline, his disheveled blonde hair, his blue eyes, the two, dark horns sprouting from his head. “People die all the time. You kill each other, and you kill themselves. All over trivial matters,” he continues. “You pathetic mortals die at the drop of a hat. It is what you humans call natural, isn’t it? Death? Then this should be no different.” </p><p>That’s the thing: it’s not normal.” Claude sheds his backpack and sits on the floor, his legs sprawled out in front of him with one arm propping him up. The god gives him a puzzled look, but it’s quickly masked with irritation, frustration, aggravation.</p><p><em>I won’t bow before you,</em> Claude thinks.<em> I have no respects to pay to someone like you.</em></p><p>“You’re killing people excessively and inhumanely.”</p><p>“I care not for that. Life is inhumane,” the god says, uninterested. “Terrible things happen every day. That is not in my hands.”</p><p><em>Hey, death is kind of your thing isn’t it? It </em>is<em> in your hands. And ‘terrible’ and ‘inhumane’ things could happen a little less if you didn’t try to kill everyone who came by Ailell, you know, </em>Claude wants to say, but he holds his tongue. He has a feeling that the god probably wouldn’t react well to any more sass from him.</p><p>“Begone from my sight.”</p><p>“Not until you address this issue.”</p><p>The god clenches a fist, his expression twisting into a terrible one. “You are morbidly fascinated with death,” he hisses out, wearing a dark expression as he stands up from his throne, “so I will make your death as painful as I can.”</p><p>Claude hasn’t gotten a good read on this god yet, but he does know some things about him. He’s extremely irritable. He seems to really hate humans. He doesn’t seem to like Claude asking him about killing humans, but even with what Claude's said so far, things that probably should never be said to a god in such a casual tone, the god hasn’t really done anything to him, other than throw that skull at him, and Claude isn't even sure what was supposed to mean. Claude wonders if he should keep pushing.</p><p><em>It looks like he hasn’t properly spoken to anyone in a while,</em> Claude muses to himself silently.<em> He doesn’t know how to really argue his point—could I change his mind, maybe? Trick him into something? He’s short-tempered, violent, ridiculously strong. If I keep pushing him, there’s no doubt I’ll end up dead, but I’ve already come this far so should I really yield? I doubt he’d let me leave alive with this knowledge anyway.</em></p><p>He supposes that there isn't anything to lose at this point. He should try to break this god in any way he can, whether it's verbally or just annoying him until he gives in. Claude's reluctant to use force and violence, but he's always been quite good at getting people to spill secrets without resorting to that. He's sure he can do the same to this god. After all, what is god if not just a powerful and revered human?</p><p>Claude grabs his backpack. He feels the god’s gaze burning holes into him as he moves. There's a wariness, a weariness, in his gaze. It's intense in a way that Claude can't quite describe. It's also very familiar.</p><p><em>You were the one following me in forest, weren’t you</em>? Claude wants to smile a little, but he holds back.</p><p>Claude hums and takes out some small and colorful rice cakes, wrapped in little paper covering. They’d been made just for him by a few pitying villagers who had heard of his plans to visit Ailell. They had called him stupid and suicidal, but when they realized that Claude would not be swayed by their words, they had pitied him enough to give him food for his travels.</p><p>There was hope in their eyes. Hope that Claude would be the one to finally do something about Ailell, hope that he would be okay despite their overwhelming understanding that he’d probably die. Hope that Claude wasn’t willing to give up on.</p><p>He had a duty to his people, even if they don’t recognize him, even if he just seems like a regular citizen of the kingdom to them.</p><p>Claude looks up at the god on the throne.</p><p>“O Your Unholiness,” Claude says, openly dramatic. The god’s eye twitches a little, and he bares his teeth in a snarl like a feral animal. “Won’t you partake in a small snack with a measly, pathetic human before he dies?” After a pause, where the god doesn’t move a muscle, still looking vicious, Claude holds out a rice cake. “They’re pretty good. You should try one.”</p><p>The god gives a frustrated huff and stands up, storming towards Claude. “You impertinent <em>wretch</em>,” he growls. “You dare mock me?”</p><p>“Mock you? Nah.” Claude pops the rice cake in his mouth. When he bites, he can taste the sweet honey sesame filling in his mouth. He hums as he savors the sweetness. “It’s kind of like an peace offering.”</p><p>“An offering,” the god echoes flatly. He scoffs. “You realize what offerings mean to gods?”</p><p>Claude makes a face. An offering to a god does carry implications that Claude isn’t particularly fond of. “Okay, well, think of it less as an offering and more like an ice-breaker. Y’know, something that I can use to get you to listen to me for a second.” Claude reaches forward and sets a rice cake atop of the paper covering on the floor in front of him. “I’ll just leave that there, just in case you want it.”</p><p>The god of death stares at him.</p><p>“I’m not a threat to you.”</p><p>“I know,” the god snaps.</p><p><em>You certainly don’t act like it. </em>The words dance right on the tip of Claude’s tongue, but he knows that saying that would seriously lead to his death. He keeps his mouth shut instead, munching on another rice cake.</p><p>Much to Claude’s surprise, the god crouches in front of him. His gaze is cold and angry, defensive and tense, as he grabs the rice cake. He moves quickly, as if he’s worried that Claude will take the sweet from him or that Claude will strike while he’s vulnerable. Claude doesn’t move. The god squishes the treat between his fingers, stares at it, and then turns his gaze to Claude.</p><p>“You are odd,” the god says slowly.</p><p>“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Claude sits up a little. “So. Are you willing to hear my argument then?”</p><p>“What argument?”</p><p>“That you should just leave Ailell alone.”</p><p>The god scoffs. “I don’t owe you or any other human <em>anything</em>.” The rice cake disintegrates in his hands. The god upends his hand, and the rice cake, now a pile of black ash, falls to the ground in a scattered clump.</p><p>“Aw. What a waste of a rice cake. Those were good too.” Claude gives the god his typical, lax smile anyway. This god won’t listen to him, he’s sure. It’ll be less like talking to him and more like talking <em>at</em> him, which probably isn’t very productive. So how can he get the god to open up? How can he convince the god to leave Ailell alone?</p><p>The more Claude thinks about it, the more daunting of a task it is. He can only seeing this all ending one way—with the god growing tired of him and killing him in some gruesome way.</p><p>Well, there <em>is</em> another thing he can do to try and convince this bitter god to give in, but nothing about it is guaranteed. He’ll hold off on that idea. It’s a last resort.</p><p>“Well, how about a question? Can I ask you a question?”</p><p>“No.” The god stands, moving to return to his throne.</p><p>“What about humans in Ailell is bothering you?” Claude asks anyway. “If there’s something specific they’re doing, maybe I can convince them to stop.”</p><p>“They live.” The god gives Claude a flat look. “They live, and that bothers me.”</p><p>“Why haunt Ailell then? Wouldn’t you be able to kill more people if you just moved around?”</p><p>Claude doesn’t get a response to his questions. He’s getting nowhere and fast. It seems that the god is starting to cut his answers short, starting to avoid answering him. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps and decides to execute Claude in some kind of gruesome manner.</p><p>Perhaps it’s time to try out his last resort then.</p><p>Claude sighs a little. “Hey.”</p><p>The god doesn’t acknowledge that he’s heard Claude—but it’s inevitable that he hadn’t heard him. They’re the only two in the room, after all.</p><p>“How about a deal?”</p><p>The god flicks his gaze to Claude.</p><p>“Let’s make this a reasonable deal. I’ll offer…” Claude rifles through his traveler’s pack. He pushes aside food, clothes, money, other survival supplies, and a few weapons. He goes through his jewelry, favorite trinkets, and even a few maps and scrolls he’d gotten through some friends. But in the end, he finds nothing that he can offer a god.</p><p>
  <em>What can you possible offer to a god? He has no need for material things. He practically has everything already.</em>
</p><p>Claude runs a hand through his hair. The god’s gaze stays plastered to Claude, waiting impatiently. Claude locks eyes with the god for a second, and in that moment, an idea forms in his head.</p><p>“My soul,” he finds himself saying. “I’ll offer you my soul.”</p><p>His immediate thought is, <em>My soul isn’t anything special. Why in the world would he want that?</em></p><p>But the god nods sagely. “A soul is a powerful thing to offer. But in exchange for what?”</p><p>Claude pauses. “You have to stop killing those who enter Ailell so recklessly. I get that you have to take lives, but you don’t have to kill everything in your vicinity.”</p><p>“No.” His reply is immediate. “Change your offer. I will not comply with that.”</p><p>“Change it?” Claude echoes with a frown. His offer is pretty clear, he thinks, but it’s clear that the god has some kind of vendetta against all humans. What could Claude do to change this? What could he change his deal to?</p><p>Then, he has an idea. An idea so stupid that it’s brilliant. An idea so brilliant that it’s stupid. If this god of death is so hateful to humans and acts out as a result of this, all Claude has to do is remedy this hate. Without all that hate, there would be less pointless deaths, right?</p><p>“A new deal,” Claude starts slowly, capturing the god’s attention fully. It doesn’t even feel like these words are coming out of his mouth, but he recognizes his voice echoing in the empty chamber around him. “Give me six months. I’m going to prove that humans aren’t the awful, irredeemable creatures you think that we are. And if I can’t, you can have my soul. But if I can, you leave Ailell alone and go back to how things used to be—taking lives only when you must.”</p><p>The god blinks. Then his expression shuts down. “That is extremely futile and imprudent on your part. You cannot prove something so blatantly <em>untrue</em>. You cannot convince me something so—so <em>asinine. </em>It’s simply preposterous. What kind of fool do you take me for?”</p><p>“Hey, you said to change my offer. That’s my offer now. Take it or leave it. My soul for a mere six months of your time.” Claude pauses. “If you think it’s so ‘preposterous,’ why not take the deal? All you’re going to waste is time, which, as a god, you have plenty of. I’m on the worse side of this deal. It’s practically a free soul for you.”</p><p><em>That’s true—so why am I risking my life for this</em>? Claude wonders. <em>Is this really even worth it?</em> He thinks of all the people he’d seen mourn lost family members and friends who had been unfortunate to be lost in Ailell. He thinks of all the widows and the orphans; he thinks of all the corpses and decay and rot in Ailell and remembers what it once was.</p><p>
  <em>It’s worth it. If I can manages to pull this off, it’ll all be worth it.</em>
</p><p>The god seems to be considering this offer too. His lip curls downward into a small frown. Realistically, this god could simply kill him and take his soul without bothering with this deal—yet, he still seems to be considering it genuinely. A thick silence forms in the air between them as Claude packs his backpack and stands before the god, whose expression flits between conflicted and frustrated.</p><p>And finally, <em>finally,</em> he answers. “Fine. I will allow you to attempt to prove humanity’s worth. Should you fail—which you will—I will take your soul.”</p><p>“And if I can convince you?”</p><p>"You won’t.”</p><p>"But, theoretically speaking, if I can?”</p><p>The god heaves a long-suffering sigh and gives Claude a withering look. “Then I will allow you to keep your soul, and I will cease my ‘excessive’ and ‘inhumane’ killings of those who pass through Ailell.” He slowly holds out a hand, one clad with a slick, black glove. “Is that a deal?”</p><p>“Deal.” Claude grips his hand. He flinches a little. Even through the glove, Claude can feel how cold the god’s massive hand is. He feels like he’d just shoved his hands directly into an arctic pond, breaking through the ice and letting the frigid water swallow his hand. He’s cold, devoid of life. Like a corpse. Claude suppresses a small shudder.</p><p>A slow smirk, a dark smile, spreads across the deity’s face, as if he was just <em>barely </em>amused by Claude’s revelations. He grips a little harder on Claude’s hand, and Claude winces. The god is barely holding on, but his hand is still overwhelmed by a crushing grip.</p><p>A dark cloud of magic swirls out from the god’s glove and forms chains that bind their wrists together. The magic is just as cold as the god’s hand was; it tightens and feels like a pair of metal handcuffs binding his wrist to the god’s. For a brief second, Claude feels a sharp pain in his chest, like he’s been punctured through the heart, and he grunts in pain, but just as quickly as it came about, it’s gone.</p><p>“The deal is now sealed,” the god states plainly. He lets go of Claude’s hand. "I have never met anyone as eager to throw their life away as you. You are intriguing. But you are undeniably a fool."</p><p><em>I'm a fool, but I'm alive, aren't I?</em> Claude muses to himself. <em>That doesn't seem to be something that many can say about their encounters with you.</em></p><p>"Starting at the dawn of tomorrow, your six months will begin. Until then, I tire of you.”</p><p>Before Claude even gets a chance to speak, the god has flicked his cape out from behind him and all the lights in the room immediately go out, leaving Claude alone in a dark and empty throne room. It’s pretty badass, Claude admits, but he wishes that he could have had the god stay a little longer to chat about what he plans to do. Oh, well. This just gives Claude more time to himself to solidify his plans.</p><p>“Hey, can I stay here until tomorrow?” Claude asks aloud, though he knows that the god isn’t in the room with him anymore. There could be a chance that he’s still listening or watching over him. After all, he’s a god and they’ve kind of been connected in some way or another through that bond. “I don’t have a place to stay for the night.” The silence of the room is broken by the sound of Claude’s voice. The barren, cold walls of the throne room seem to parrot him, his echoes taunting him.</p><p>He figures that the resulting silence is just the god ignoring him so Claude digs through his backpack, takes out and unravels a blanket and makes himself at home for the time being.</p><p>As soon as he gets comfortable, pulling the thin blanket up to his neck, he feels sleep tugging at his eyelids. Sweet whispers of dreams lure him in, and before he knows it—before he gets a chance to reflect on his unfathomably day or what he’ll do with six months of a bitter, hating, cynical god’s time—he drifts to sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the huge, huge delay! There's been a lot going on, and ao3 actually didn't save my draft of this chapter so I had to start over ;×;</p><p>But nonetheless, hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s quite disorienting to wake up in a place as dark as a black hole, save for a few beams of light that trickles through the cracks in the roof of the temple, and silent as a graveyard. He can hardly see anything around him, can hardly see the fingers of his hands wiggling in the air a few feet in front of his face. The dreariness of the temple kind of drives him nuts. He misses the annoying trills of birdsong, the sun beaming down at him through his eyelids so he’s forced to wake up, the comfort of life around him. It’s just Claude and his thoughts in here.</p><p>When Claude wakes up, he isn’t even entirely sure if he’s alive.</p><p>Yet, he’s pretty sure he’s still alive. He can hear his thoughts. He can feel the moist humidity in the chilly air and the cold ground beneath him. Hell, he can even feel his clothes and his backpack and his blanket on him.</p><p>And he can most definitely feel the lasting pain of sleeping on what’s essentially a bed of rock. </p><p>He sits up groggily and rolls his stiff neck as he blindly gropes around in the darkness of the temple to try and pack up his belongings.</p><p>From right behind him, comes a low, deadpan, “So you’re awake now.”</p><p>Claude jolts and whips around to face the speaker, the god from the day before. He’s barely visible in the dark lighting of the temple, but Claude can just barely make out the his silhouette. He’s sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall with a large, ancient-looking lance in his one of his hands, staring up at Claude.</p><p>Claude lets out a small sigh as his heartbeat comes back down. “I get that you’re all cool and that you can disappear and do all these ethereal god things, but can’t you give me a warning?” Claude huffs and stands up, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I have a fragile human heart. You’ll send me into cardiac arrest popping up behind me like that.”</p><p>"All you humans are embarrassingly fragile.” The god, almost reluctantly, pulls himself into a standing position with a heavy sigh. “I did not ‘pop up behind you.’ I have been here, waiting for you to wake up. You have wasted much of your time already sleeping.”</p><p>Claude shrugs. “Well, maybe it was a waste to you, but to me, all that sleeping paid off. I feel great.” Claude stretches his arms out over his head. “So? Are we going?”</p><p>The god sighs but follows when Claude leads the way out of the throne room. As Claude nears the entrance, the god snaps, and the doors snap open.</p><p>Claude lets out a small breath of relief when he sees the outside world, quickly making his way down the palace steps. Sure, there are still all those disgusting bugs swarming the muck-filled swamp below the bridge and yeah, the trees around him are all rotted and knotted and the blackened sky looks seconds away from erupting into a vicious thunderstorm, but he’s just relieved to feel some fresh air against his skin, to see something other than pitch darkness.</p><p>Claude steps onto the bridge and starts to make his way across when he hesitates. The god's footsteps, once closely following him, have stopped. He turns, only to find the god still standing at the top of the palace steps. He stares at the ground for a while, a pensive look to his face.</p><p>“Hey, aren’t we going?” Claude calls from the bridge. “We have things to do.”</p><p>“I’m getting there,” the god snaps back with a glare. But he doesn’t move, his gaze still glued to the ground.</p><p>“Aww, homesick already?” Claude teases with a grin. The god’s expression darkens.</p><p>"I’m going to be so happy when I get to tear your soul out of your stupid little body,” mutters he, walking down the palace steps to join Claude at the bridge.</p><p>“That’s not guaranteed.” The god needn’t say anything. Claude can practically see his face, wearing that doubtful, <em>knowing</em> look, despite even turning around to face him. Claude ignores the near palpable skepticism and leads the way across the bridge, briefly holding his nose to keep out the stench of still water and decaying nature just below him.</p><p>“Anyway, do you have a name or something I can call you?” drawls Claude, looking over at the god with a small grin. “‘God of Death’ is a mouthful. Doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as well as other names, y’know?” He waits a beat. Has he introduced himself to this god? Does it matter? Well, they’re going to spending quite a bunch of time together so he might as well introduce himself, right? “Like my name,” he continues. “I’m Claude. Short and sweet.”</p><p>“Do you ever stop talking?”</p><p>“Growing tired of me?” Claude chuckles. “You’ve only known me for a little while. How are you going to survive half a year?”</p><p>“I regret taking this deal. To be stuck with such an insolent varlet—this may be a fate worse than death.”</p><p><em>Varlet?</em> Claude absentmindedly thinks.<em> What year am I living in? Who the hell uses that kind of word anymore? </em></p><p>"Don’t be so dramatic.” Claude and the god walk in silence for a little longer before Claude prompts again, “So your name?”</p><p>“Call me whatever you want. I don’t care.”</p><p>Claude’s lips twitch, barely holding back a smile. “You sure that’s a good idea?” Claude’s brain is already churning out tons of names to get on the god’s nerves, names that aren’t offensive enough to get him immediately killed but names that are irritating and childish nonetheless.</p><p>The god's gaze flits over to Claude's face and he immediately sighs. “You may call me Dimitri," he grumbles. "Nothing more, nothing less." He pauses briefly before adding, "Though I would not complain if you were more reverent towards me."</p><p>“Dimitri,” Claude echoes. <em>Huh. Not a name I expected from you—but to be fair, I barely think about you gods,</em> Claude thinks. He wonders if that's his actual name.</p><p>He wonders if he's projecting onto Dimitri.</p><p>Dimitri and Claude walk around the forest of Ailell. Dimitri says not a word as they navigate around the trees, towards the path that Claude had entered the forest from. The silence between them is harsh and heavy, just like the general atmosphere of the Valley of Torment.</p><p>It’s probably a good time to reflect on his plan. The night before, he had fallen asleep too quickly to properly make any plans, but now, he’s sure he can think of something. He still has plenty of time. Six months, six whole <em>moons</em> of time—he’s sure he can come up with several different plans. So now’s a good time.</p><p>Claude’s thinking that he can simply start by showing Dimitri regular human lives. Dimitri’s perspective is most likely disproportionately affected by largescale events, like the most brutal human wars. After all, people tend to remember unpleasant events moreso than they do pleasant ones.</p><p>Maybe if Claude can show Dimitri mundane, human lives—if he can show him great human accomplishments, if he can show him the small and wholesome acts of kindness that people do—then maybe Dimitri will start to ease up. Then, Claude can move on to try and show Dimitri other things.</p><p>Admittedly, it’s... not the best plan. Hell, it's far from being considered even a half-decent plan. There are so many holes strewn all about his flimsy idea that it might as well be a slice of Faerghus cheese. For starters, there’s no guarantee that Dimitri will see <em>anything</em> in the people Claude shows him. Given Dimitri's disposition, he's bound to try and point out every possible flaw and make up excuses to explain any good thing about humans. Dimitri might as well come along blindfolded since he'll refuse to properly look at any human achievement.</p><p>Then there's the fact that Claude isn't even sure what in the world he's trying to show Dimitri.</p><p>Sure, he's got his small idea to show him human lives, but that's pretty vague, not to mention that there won't be much to show him afterwards. And Claude isn't exactly a firm believer that humans are all perfect and innocent either. He has his own reservations about humans, given that he's been living among them for all twenty-three years of his life or so. He's seen the tragedies that humans are capable of; he himself has gone through said tragedies. He knows firsthand how awful humans can truly be.</p><p>So what's he to do? What's he to do on such a time-crunch with such high stakes?</p><p>Gods, Claude might have bitten off more than he can chew.</p><p>But it’s too late for regrets. There's nowhere to go but forward from here, even if it feels like he's going to burn through the last six months of his life with nothing but stress and the burden of humanity bearing down on Claude's shoulders, begging him to prevent more needless death and to protect those who are less fortunate. </p><p>Had he been a pious man, he would have prayed. Prayed for some kind of miracle to come sway Dimitri's thoughts or for the gods to give Claude some luck at the very least. But gods and their powers are exactly what got them into this problem, and Claude isn't about to turn to gods to ask for help after seeing gods turn their backs to countless humans in need time and time again, regardless of how devout their followers may be. </p><p>So Claude keeps his head high and his bravado higher.</p><p>His plan is weak, but it's just a start, a framework, something that needs to happen. It's like those abstract collection of shapes that his friend, Ignatz, scribbles before creating one of his incredible paintings—Claude can practically hear Ignatz's excited, <em>it's a sketch!</em></p><p>This experience, no matter how futile it seems, is vital. It'll give Claude an idea of how Dimitri tends to behave, react, think; it'll give Claude a little more time to properly assess and plan for the coming months. And with more experience, Claude's bound to find something that catches Dimitri's attention and makes him feel towards humans.</p><p>So he'll keep his spirits up, instead of despairing and throwing in the towel.</p><p>Well, for the time being at the very least.</p><p>Claude and Dimitri finally reach the mouth of the valley, the very entrance from which Claude entered. Claude notices Dimitri giving the forest an odd look. In his expression, Claude picks up a sense of conflict, discomfort. He supposes that Dimitri has been inhabiting this forest for the past few years—he probably hasn’t left in so long. Why would he leave? The very thing that he hates walks in just about every corner of the world. There's nowhere for him to go without meeting humans.</p><p>Dimitri must be apprehensive about leaving the safety and comfort of his home.</p><p>Claude kind of pities him, but at the same time, he's a god. He can do as he pleases. Why would he confine himself to just one little valley? If he decided to leave, he wouldn't have to worry because he could just kill humans, right?  Perhaps it was just a matter of simple homesickness.</p><p>Still. It's all strange. Dimitri is strange. Claude wants to figure out more about him.</p><p>Maybe he should say something to try and get Dimitri’s mind off leaving Ailell. He sets his gaze on the world around them, but he can’t think of anything interesting to remark on. Eventually, he finds himself staring at Dimitri. His eyes drift from Dimitri’s face to his outfit and finally settle on his hands.</p><p>Before he knows it, he’s asking, “So, Dimitri, what’s with the gloves?" </p><p>Dimitri’s expression grows cold. He looks down at the gloves. “I am prone to killing anything and everything I touch with my bare hands,” Dimitri says, voice low. “If anything living touches the bare skin of my hands, it rots and dies instantaneously. The gloves prevent that.”</p><p>“Anything?” Curiosity bubbles up in Claude, and he finds himself looking around for a flower or maybe a bug or <em>something</em>.</p><p>“I’m not taking them off unless I must.” He sounds firm in his stance. Damn, it’s like he can read Claude’s mind.</p><p>But that comment strikes Claude as a little odd. For such a merciless god, for a god who wishes death upon all humans, he doesn’t seem to want to hurt anything. Claude frowns, but he makes note of Dimitri's hesitance—no, his <em>refusal—</em>to take off the gloves, even if they'll let him kill things easier.</p><p>Dimitri hadn't even taken the gloves off when they met. He could easily just killed Claude right then and there when they made that deal. It would have been a free soul. </p><p>Strange.</p><p>“Well, in what kind of situation would you consider taking them off?”</p><p>Dimitri pauses. He furrows his brows. A fury, near tangible, manifests in his expression. “Self-defense,” he says, his voice soft but dangerous. "In a situation where I must defend myself."</p><p>Oh, there’s <em>definitely </em>a story there. There’s something that Dimitri’s hiding from him, and Claude has a pretty good feeling that it’s related to Dimitri’s hatred of humans—but Claude knows that Dimitri probably isn’t willing to open up entirely about it to him. Claude files this information away for later reference.</p><p>“Well, no one’s going to hurt you,” Claude tells him with a soft pat on the back. “Not while I’m here at least.” Claude grins at Dimitri before fixing his gaze back towards the dirt path that they’re on. “I know my way around a few weapons—and even before we resort to violence, I’m sure I can get us out of any sticky situation.”</p><p>Claude sees Dimitri’s expression shift out of the corner of his eye, but he can’t quite make out what kind of face he’s making. Claude turns his head to try and get a better look at that expression, but by that time, Dimitri’s expression has shut down again. “I have my doubts,” he mutters.</p><p>Claude shrugs again. “Hey, you’re free to keep your doubts, but I always keep my word.”</p><p>-</p><p>The two walk in relative silence. The only sound other than rocks and dirt crunching softly beneath their feet is the sound of Claude's traveler's pack jostling slightly with each step and the sound of Dimitri bringing the butt of his lance down against the ground as they walk. </p><p>Claude doesn't mind the silence. Ordinarily, he might feel a little antsy, concerned, suspicious even, that the person he's walking with is so silent. He might want to strike up a conversation, try to see what they're thinking and try to get to know them. Yet, he feels surprisingly calm. </p><p>He attributes most of his calmness to the fact that he's studying Dimitri as they walk. He can't really be anxious that Dimitri's going to do anything when he's taking note of the little things about Dimitri, from the way he dressed in such raggedy clothes to the way he walks with his shoulders hunched forward. If Dimitri were to try and do anything dangerous, Claude would be one step ahead, already reading his movements. He feels safe.</p><p>Not that he thinks that Dimitri is going to try anything. Claude's rather confident that Dimitri isn't going to hurt him. Dimitri may be the god of death, but Claude has heard that gods are not ones to take deals very lightly, especially when it comes to something as important as a human soul.</p><p>Dimitri looks wary. His eye, a cold and icy blue, darts from the path in front of them to the nature around them to Claude, where it lingers, to the path once more. Dimitri walks with his head tilted a little towards Claude. Claude stares back whenever Dimitri looks at him. Their gazes will always get locked in a stalemate with Dimitri staring intently, as if to try and read Claude's mind, and Claude staring back to try and find what's eating at Dimitri.</p><p>Claude's always the first to look away. He's pretty sure that given the chance, Dimitri would keep his gaze trained on Claude. Claude hasn't really done anything worth such scrutiny, but he knows Dimitri's skittish and feral, especially because of humans, so he doesn't really think much of it.</p><p>Eventually, Dimitri cuts through their silence. "You're staring."  </p><p>"So are you." Claude grins. "Guess not even gods can turn an eye to my devilishly handsome looks, huh?"</p><p>Dimitri grunts, glaring at him in clear irritation, but pushes the issue no further.</p><p>Maybe Claude's staring is putting Dimitri off, but Claude can't really afford to let his guard down around someone so volatile and hateful. It goes against everything he's grown up doing. But he has a feeling that him watching Dimitri only makes Dimitri even more uncomfortable, even more uneasy.</p><p>It takes Claude few minutes, but he realizes that Dimitri's facing him, that Dimitri's stares at Claude so often with this guarded look, because he's on Dimitri's right. Dimitri wears an eyepatch on his right. He probably wouldn't be able to see Claude if he faced completely forward. No wonder he's been so tense. </p><p>Claude stops in his tracks, and Dimitri follows in suit.</p><p>"What?" Dimitri tears his gaze from Claude and looks around them, his eye wide with alarm. "Is something amiss?" He squares his shoulders and tightens his grip on his lance.</p><p>Claude hums a little. "No. Not particularly." He crosses in front of Dimitri to stand on his left side. He smiles a little. "Just thought I ought to get a view of the world from this side." He starts walking again, and Dimitri pauses a little before catching up to Claude.</p><p>Dimitri doesn't say anything, but Claude can practically feel the slight gratitude and relief coming off of Dimitri, seeing how his body starts to lose its rigidness just a touch and how Dimitri's wary gaze slows its frantic darting. He doesn't let his gaze leave Claude for too long, but he doesn't seem to be as wary of Claude now that he's within Dimitri's field of vision.</p><p>They walk a little longer before they come upon a little village. Claude remembers passing this village on his way here. It had been a lively little village, where just about everyone knew one another. They acted like one big family, looking after each other and even looking after Claude when he briefly stopped by to restock.</p><p>The old grannies at the marketplace seemed to like him, thrusting a bunch of fruit and bread into his arms and telling him to look after himself properly in the brusque way that only village grannies can seem to pull off. The kids there found him interesting and trailed behind him like a line of ducklings after their mother, asking him questions and asking to play. The men there were more than happy to give him directions and advice, even if it was at the expense of putting a pause in what they're doing.</p><p><em>They all seemed pretty nice,</em> Claude thinks as he draws to a halt at the gates of the village. <em>So this should be a pretty good starting point. </em></p><p>"So here's our first stop," Claude announces, flashing Dimitri a small grin. He gives a wide, sweeping gesture out towards the little village. </p><p>Dimitri stares at the town. Then he flicks his gaze around, as if he'd missed something. Finally, he turns towards Claude with a clearly uninterested look. "What does this prove?" he asks, crossing his arms. "Do you take me for a simpleton? I am aware that humans can live in small civilizations. All humans do."</p><p><em>I don't</em>, Claude muses. It feels like a punch to the gut, longing and bitterness driving itself deep into his core. Years and years worth of weariness, of loneliness, of wearing a facade, seem to settle into his bones in that very moment. <em>Not anymore.</em></p><p>But this thought occurs to him too frequently for him to really let it bother him anymore. Claude shakes off the depressing feeling with ease, as he's done many times before, and simply shrugs. "I'm more interested in showing you the sense of community and belonging in this 'small civilization' than the actual village itself." He starts walking towards the entrance. "Come on."</p><p>Dimitri gives a tired huff, an exasperated one, but follows Claude nonetheless.</p><p>The village is just as lively as when he had first visited. Children are joyously playing in the streets with one another, chasing each other and squealing with laughter. Farmers till their fields and tend to their animals diligently. A few elderly couples sit out in their yards and watch with small, content looks as their grandkids play.</p><p>Claude leads Dimitri down the street of the village, politely smiling and waving at the people who look over at them. They're often more than happy to wave back, though a few of them give Dimitri a cautious look. Claude doesn't blame him. Dimitri is tall, intimidating, angry. He doesn't give off the friendliest air. </p><p>Dimitri doesn't wave back. He doesn't even seem to recognize that people are trying to greet him. His gaze instead flits between Claude of the people around him. There’s a wild, hard look in his eyes, and the rise and fall of his chest quickens with every little step they take—and Claude has a sneaking suspicion that it isn’t because Dimitri feels tired from walking.</p><p>He notices Dimitri's grip on his lance tighten.</p><p>Maybe being around all these people isn't particularly comfortable for him.</p><p><em>Alright, noted</em>, Claude thinks. <em>Really,</em> really, really <em>hates</em><em> people. Guess we’ll have to start a lot smaller than this.</em></p><p>But before Claude can take Dimitri to a more secluded space and slowly help him adjust to being around so many humans, a few of the village kids seem to recognize Claude and brighten, hurrying over. They call his name and wave, running down to him. When they see Dimitri, they flinch a little hesitate in coming much closer. Again, Claude can't fault them. Especially since they're children. They just see a tall, scary man beside a friendly face they recognize.</p><p>This gives Claude an idea though. He might have to literally start small—by starting with smaller humans. Kids. They're more energetic and rambunctious and carefree and curious, which might be a little much for such a gloomy god, but maybe if Claude can just get Dimitri to find <em>some</em> aspect of humans cute, like how they are as kids, then it might just give Claude a little bit of footing.</p><p>One of the kids steps forward. She waddles up to Claude and tugs on his pant leg. "Hi, Claude!" she squeaks out with a big smile, revealing where a few baby teeth are missing. "Are you here to buy more stuff?"</p><p>Claude grins at her. She could be a good start for Dimitri. "Yeah, something like that." He flicks his gaze over to Dimitri, who is watching him and the group of kids intently. Claude straightens his pose and gestures to Dimitri. "Actually, I want you guys to meet a friend of mine." Dimitri lets out a small, sardonic snort that Claude chooses to ignore. "This is Dimitri. Say hi!"</p><p>The kids still linger back, giving Dimitri a wary look. Dimitri's expression hardens.</p><p><em>Come on,</em> he’s thinking to himself as he nudges the girl who was tugging on his pant leg towards Dimitri. <em>Everyone loves kids. </em>He pointedly ignores that no one seemed to like him as a kid. <em>They’re small and cute and fun. A little annoying sometimes but…</em></p><p>“Why do you only have one eye?” one of the kids blurts out. Dimitri winces a little.</p><p><em>Okay, scratch that. They’re </em>pretty<em> damn annoying.</em> Claude can't help a small chuckle though. Maybe it's a nervous reaction. Maybe it's because the fact that kids can be so blunt is genuinely kind of funny. Either way, he laughs a little. <em>That's just how kids are. They're just trying to learn about the world. Just as you are, Dimitri.</em></p><p>Claude glances over at Dimitri. There's still that hardened, dark look to him as he towers over the kids. The kids look over at Claude, as if to plead for help, but Claude's really depending on them just as much. <em>Just say something cute and friendly and childish to him</em>, Claude is thinking, <em>something like, 'Wowie! You're super tall, mister!' </em></p><p>Well, he's the adult. He supposes he should take charge. He swallows down the urge to sigh.</p><p>“At least try to engage with them,” Claude whispers to Dimitri. “It’ll make the six months go by faster.”</p><p>Dimitri gives him a look. Flat, disbelieving. Annoyed, almost.</p><p>"Trust me. Dragging your feet isn't going to stop me from making you do stuff." Claude grins a little. "Just put on a little smile and say hi. Nothing too ridiculously hard."</p><p>Dimitri gives a long-suffering sigh, gives Claude a withering look, and gives in.</p><p>Much to Claude's surprise, Dimitri does his best to try and look a little more welcoming. He shuts his eye, takes a deep breath, and tries his best to relax his expression—though Claude notices that he doesn't even bother trying to smile—before he interacts with any of the kids.</p><p>Dimitri crouches down in front of the kids, holding out a hand. "Hello," he greets stiffly. "I am Dimitri."</p><p>Yeah, that's about what Claude expected. It's considerably better than nothing though, Claude supposes.</p><p>For a second, no one moves. The kids share uncertain looks with each other before flicking a cursory, curious glance over to Claude.</p><p>Then, the little girl from before timidly wobbles forward. She looks up at Claude who smiles reassuringly at her; she smiles a little in response. She takes Dimitri's hand, and Claude doesn't miss how Dimitri's eye lights up a little, his eyebrows jumping up a little in what seems like genuine surprise. Dimitri's large hand envelops hers entirely, slowly.</p><p>Suddenly, the girl gives a sharp cry and yanks her arm away from Dimitri, rubbing her hand. She scampers back to Claude, pawing at him and practically climbing onto him while sobbing. Claude scoops her up in his arms and lets her bury her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder.</p><p>“My hand,” she wails. “He crushed my hand!”</p><p>Claude briefly checks the girl's hand, feeling her bones and joints. Nothing seems out of place, though there is a redness that lingers over her hand. She was probably just shocked by Dimitri's grip and exaggerating her pain the way that kids tend to. She'll live.</p><p>He lets out a breath of relief. It does little to stifle the girl's terror.</p><p>“Dimitri, what the hell did you do?” Claude demands. “By ‘engage,’ I didn’t mean that you should try to hurt them! What were you thinking?"</p><p>Dimitri’s eye goes wide. “No, I-I… It was unintentional. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” His voice is weaker than it sounded before. He looks oddly dejected. Claude can't help the spike of curiosity that runs through him. “I… I'm…”</p><p>Then Dimitri furrows his brows, and his expression shuts down again. "No, what were<em> you </em>thinking?" Dimitri snaps, a familiar and apathetic growl gracing his words again. The kids wince at the roughness of his voice. "You really think that introducing <em>me</em> to these damn, impressionable, fragile <em>creatures</em> was a good idea? You dare place this blame entirely on me with knowing what you do about me? You're just as cruel, unthinking, and unfeeling as other humans."</p><p>With that said and one last, furious snarl, Dimitri storms off.</p><p>Claude reflects on Dimitri's words. Maybe that was an oversight. No, Dimitri's right. That was <em>definitely </em>an oversight. A risky idea that Claude really should have thought through a little more. In retrospect, expecting a literal god of death with a track record of ruthlessly killing people to get along with a group of innocent children wasn't the best idea.</p><p>But in Claude's defense, it was really the most he could think to do without putting Dimitri in an even tougher spot. Socializing with adults is a hundred times harder than socializing with kids, and if Dimitri lashed out in front of an older crowd, it'd probably be much harder to deal with the situation. </p><p>And besides, Claude was ready to step in if anything happened. He isn't sure what he can do against a god, but he keeps a dagger with him, strapped away just out of sight. If something significantly worse happened, Claude would be ready to strike back.</p><p>Nonetheless, Claude messed up, and he recognizes that. He needs to fix it as soon as he can. Otherwise, things aren't looking too good for his mission. Or the rest of humanity, if Claude wants to be really dramatic.</p><p>“Dimitri," Claude calls, but he doesn't slow his pace. Again, it's about what Claude expects. "Dimitri, wait.” Claude sets the girl down. He hurries after the god who’s steadily making his way towards the gates of the village. Is he headed back to Ailell? “Dimitri.”</p><p>Dimitri doesn’t stop until Claude steps directly in front of him. Even then, Dimitri looks tempted to just push Claude aside and head home, pulling to a stop with a sharp glare.</p><p>"Out of my way," Dimitri growls. </p><p>“You can’t just leave. You promised me six months of your time. We have a deal.” Claude sighs when Dimitri doesn’t speak. “Listen, I get you hate humans but—”</p><p>“I told you. It was unintentional. I didn’t mean to hurt her.” Dimitri curtly turns his head down a little, away from Claude's eyes.</p><p>Claude blinks. His voice there—it was different again. Softer, a little less rugged. That angry growl wasn't there as it was in his previous sentence. Something urges Claude to get a better look at him, so he cocks his head and tries to get a glance at Dimitri's face.</p><p>Dimitri shifts again, clearly trying to avoid looking at Claude, but he catches just the briefest flash of Dimitri's expression, and it's enough. </p><p>Claude sees something that looks vaguely of remorse and humiliation and frustration. Dimitri definitely doesn't look happy about this situation, but he doesn't look annoyed or angry with Claude or the kids.</p><p>It's a look Claude's seen plenty of times. A self-conscious look. A guilty look. It's similar to the way his friend, Marianne, used to look. A haggard, long-suffering gaze filled with sorrow and guilt, frustration and self-hatred. Dimitri's look holds that same feeling, but mixed with a touch of anger.</p><p>Plainly put, he looks genuinely upset at himself.</p><p><em>Can he not control his strength?</em> he wonders. Distantly, he remembers Dimitri throwing a skull at him with what seemed like no effort and having it explode into a hundred little pieces like a firework against the wall. <em>Uncontrollable and unfathomable strength… Maybe he really does feel bad about this.</em></p><p>
  <em>But why feel bad about hurting a child when he’s been murdering people this whole time? Kids are humans too.</em>
</p><p>Questions. Every time Claude talks to Dimitri, all he gets are more questions. It's intriguing, but it's a little frustrating. This plan was supposed to get him answers, not more questions.</p><p>Well, at least there's something to look forward to while he's trying to stop Dimitri from killing people in Ailell.</p><p>Claude hums. Dimitri upsetting a bunch of kids isn’t doing him any favors. Dimitri might misinterpret this experience as some sort of ill-will, like Claude was trying to humiliate him or something. He needs to remedy this now. He can ask Dimitri about everything later.</p><p>“If you’re feeling bad about it, don’t apologize to me. Go apologize to the little girl.”</p><p>Dimitri doesn’t move.</p><p>Claude sighs and softens his tone. “Look. It’s okay if you made a mistake. Everyone makes them. Just make sure you properly address it and apologize when you need to.” He slowly reaches for Dimitri’s sleeve. Dimitri remains still, tense, but his gaze follows Claude's hand. He makes no move to stop Claude, even when Claude's snagged a part of Dimitri's sleeve in his hand. “Come on. Let’s go.”</p><p>At first, Dimitri doesn't move. But after a moment, Dimitri lets out a huff through his nostrils and follows Claude, though he does drag his feet.</p><p>To Claude’s surprise, the little girl is still there with the other kids. She’s stopped wailing, and she’s stopped holding onto her hand. She seems to have moved on already, talking to the other kids, though when she sees Claude with Dimitri, she gives Dimitri a cautious look, her eyebrows drawn together in concern.</p><p>Making sure that the kids don't see, Claude sneaks a treat into Dimitri’s hand and gestures at the girl with his head. <em>Give it to her</em>, he’s trying to tell him. When Dimitri just stares at him, Claude gestures again, a tilt of his head aimed towards the girl. He mouths the words this time.</p><p>Dimitri seems to understand by the second time around. </p><p>Claude lets a out a little sigh and watches a little more carefully this time, ready to step in if anything bad happens. He's learned his lesson. He'll be more wary of what Dimitri is capable of—and he'll be more wary about keeping others safe from him. </p><p>“I am... sorry for hurting your hand. It was... Unintentional." He holds out the sweet treat, his gaze trained on the ground. “Please take this. As a form of compensation."</p><p>It's a stilted apology, one that even kids would feel a little uncomfortable about, but it definitely sounds genuine.</p><p><em>But really? Compensation?</em> <em>What kind of kid knows what 'compensation' means?</em> Claude shakes his head to himself a little.</p><p>The girl stares at the treat. She clearly wants it, but she hesitates. She looks up at Dimitri, cocking her head.</p><p>"Take this treat," Dimitri emphasizes, holding his hands out a little more towards the girl.</p><p><em>Please, just take it,</em> Claude's thinking, holding his breath in anticipation.</p><p>And finally, after a long pause that feels like years and years have passed, the girl ambles forward, one slow step after another until she's closed the gap between the group of children and Dimitri. She takes the treat, looks down at it, and then looks up at Dimitri, whose shoulders relax the tiniest bit when she grabs it.</p><p><em>He's different from when we got here,</em> Claude notes. <em>He's kinder. More patient. But why did he change like that? Is it because of the kids?</em> Pride fills his chest. <em>So I was right to introduce him to these kids, even if I put them in a little bit of</em> danger. </p><p>A sudden thought occurs to Claude. He's<em> got a soft spot. That could be very, very useful.</em></p><p>The girl unwraps the treat and snaps it in half before putting one half in Dimitri's palm. Dimitri finally lifts his head, clearly confused.</p><p>"Mom says sharing a snack with a new friend is a good idea." The girl stuffs the treat into her mouth and points at the treat in Dimitri's hand. "That one's for you."</p><p>Claude distantly remembers the little girl giving him part of her apple when he first dropped by in town. She had said the same thing then too. It seems she lives by that piece of advice. </p><p>It works pretty well in Claude's favor.</p><p>Dimitri looks down at the treat. Gods, what Claude would give to see Dimitri's thoughts. He's sure that Dimitri is running through all of the potential poisons that could be in the treat or something like that. He scrutinizes it, but seeing that the girl is watching him, he straightens his posture.</p><p>"Very well. If you insist, I will indulge your mother's tradition." </p><p>He takes a tiny bite into it, slowly. Chews. Swallows. All while wearing a stone-faced expression.</p><p>"Yummy, right?" prompts the girl. "It's one of my favorites!"</p><p>Dimitri stares down at the girl and gives a stiff nod, just once, as he eats the rest of the treat. </p><p>And despite his lack of enthusiasm, the other kids seem to see this as a sign that he's friendly and start to slowly come closer in the same curious way that pack animals will slowly near something unfamiliar. Before long, the kids are chatting with Dimitri.</p><p>Or, rather, it seems that they're talking <em>at</em> him. Dimitri looks too surprised by how quickly the kids open up to him to really respond. His attention is drawn back and forth between speakers, his eye flitting around the circle of children before him.</p><p>"You're really tall!"</p><p>"Yeah! And you look strong! Can I have a piggyback ride?"</p><p>"Your hair's kind of long. Can we braid it?"</p><p>"So why <em>do</em> you only have one eye?"</p><p>The kids bombard him with questions and requests and comments. They're definitely still wary of him, but they've all have sort of strange admiration in their eyes. Perhaps they think that Dimitri's a war-hardened veteran. Perhaps they think he's a pirate from a far-away land. </p><p>Either way, they're just children living in a small village. They're probably just excited to see a new face, especially the one that's accompanying one that they've already established as 'safe.'</p><p>Maybe this is simply wishful thinking, but Claude swears he sees Dimitri's gaze becoming softer again, tension slipping from his shoulders.</p><p>Claude grins and steps in a little closer to Dimitri. "Hmm, it looks like they want to be your friend, Dimitri."</p><p>"Why?" Dimitri frowns. "I hardly know them."</p><p>Claude sees this chance and takes it. </p><p>"Humans are like that," he says, and he's kind of talking out of his ass, but he's piecing it together as he goes. "We aren't all malicious, selfish monsters. We just want to live our lives and live with people that we like around us, help them through their problems." </p><p>Dimitri clicks his tongue, turns his head away. "Don't preach this nonsense at me."</p><p>"Friends don't come out of nowhere," Claude continues, as if Dimitri had never spoken. "We have to be vulnerable for others and trust them to treat us well—but you're bound to find someone." Claude pauses a beat. "And if you're just talking to people, the default is to be polite to strangers."</p><p>"I know this already." Dimitri grunts. "What's your point? Ten words or less."</p><p>Claude raises an eyebrow at the stipulation at the end, but he complies. He counts off his words on his fingers as he speaks. "Humans usually try to be nice to each other." He holds up nine fingers at Dimitri, but the god seems pretty unimpressed.</p><p>Well, Claude wasn't expecting to blow him away with this revelation.</p><p>"Not a fan of this thought, huh." Claude shrugs. "Then, how about a different lesson?"</p><p>Dimitri sighs. "Lead the way."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>did you know that both claude and dimitri like to talk about children at the market during tea time? :D the more you know!</p><p>this chapter was really hard to write, but i think that now that this is out of the way, the other chapters will fall into place!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[sweats] i-it's been a while huh,,, i haven't really been happy with this fic since i feel like i keep losing my characterizations of claude and dimitri, and also because my pacing and goals are a bit hard to keep a track of. i actually have almost all of this entire fic planned out with a lot of fun lil scenes i wanna write, but Actually Writing is hard for some reason. </p><p>but i won't give up!!</p><p>just,, please having some understanding for my mischaracterizations and for bad pacing/dialogue ;_; thank you,,</p><p>so as always, i hope you enjoy! here's to hoping that i'll update this fic a bit more <s>bc i actually really do like this premise even if it feels impossible to write skldjflskdjf</s>!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s more of a challenge than Claude would have expected, but he eventually manages to pull Dimitri away from the eyes of the curious village children. Turns out that they were pretty interested in the tall, scary, but surprisingly patient stranger that Claude had pulled around, and they were reluctant to let Claude just pull him away.</p><p>“Hey, I’m serious now,” Claude says, growing a little exasperated despite the friendly smile on his face. “Dimitri and I are really busy.”</p><p>“Can’t we play a little longer?” a kid asks. The other kids nod in agreement and beg along.</p><p>“Please? Please?” the other kids plead in a pitiful chorus, accompanied by big, puppy dog eyes. “Just a little longer? Just five minutes?”</p><p>“Ah, sorry. We’re <em>really </em>busy.” Claude turns to Dimitri. “Go on, Dimitri. Tell them just how busy we are.”</p><p>Dimitri stares flatly at Claude.</p><p>Claude hardly knows this god, and there are times where he feels damn near impossible to read, but yet, in this moment, he swears that he can read his expression. There’s the faintest, <em>faintest</em> shadow of amusement gracing his expression. He’s getting some sort of pleasure out of seeing Claude losing to these kids, it seems.</p><p><em>Oh, fine. Go on. Be as smug as you want, Your Godliness. You won’t be laughing when I get my way,</em> Claude thinks to himself.</p><p>“Well, Dimitri?" prompts Claude again. "How busy are we?”</p><p>Dimitri sighs, a soft but exaggeratedly prolonged exhale through his nose. He then turns his gaze to look down at the kids. “Very,” he states simply. After a beat, he tacks on, “We must get going now.”</p><p>The kids, unsurprisingly, look unconvinced. They’re more stubborn than Claude remembers.</p><p>“There will be lots of time to play with Dimitri later.” Claude silently revels at how Dimitri flinches the slightest bit in the corner of his vision. His smile grows a touch. “I’ll bring him back around, and he can tell you guys all about our grand little adventures around Fodlan—but there’s no story if we sit here all day, right?”</p><p>The village kids pause a beat, looking at one another. </p><p>And finally, the kids concede. Slowly, one by one, they bid their goodbyes and pull away from Dimitri. Claude waves at them too, beaming at his small victory. As the last kid turns away from Dimitri and Claude, Claude feels himself relax.</p><p>Claude isn’t worried; he doesn’t feel bad. They’re kids. They’ll find something else to entertain themselves with soon enough.</p><p>And they do almost immediately, taking interest in a gathering of local, stray cats. Claude almost pities the cats, now drowning in a wave of chubby, clammy, children’s hands and loud laughter. He hears a few of the cats yowl, the laughter only growing louder.</p><p>Claude lets out a small, satisfied sigh and turns to Dimitri, his fists resting on his hips. Dimitri crosses his arms but meets Claude’s gaze.</p><p>“Alright, then. That’s enough of that. Let’s go somewhere else.”</p><p>“Somewhere more helpful to your cause, perhaps,” Dimitri adds flatly.</p><p>Claude hums. “A swing and a miss, yeah?” Claude can’t help his grin. “Don’t think me discouraged just yet, Dimitri. I’m <em>far</em> from it.”</p><p>Claude gets no reply other than a mildly vexed huff followed by a click of the tongue, to which Claude only brightens his grin.</p><p>Claude glances around the village as he plans his next attempt to loosen the iron grip Dimitri has on his hatred and bias against humans. This place is a small, rural village with nothing particularly eye-catching, not even the buildings or the people, but Claude knows why he picked this location.</p><p><em>The sense of community</em>, he reminds himself.<em> It’s warm and loving here. And I’m sure Dimitri just needs to see it—no, </em>feel<em> it, even.</em></p><p>Yet, he’s apprehensive. Dimitri doesn’t quite seem to be fond of having too many people around him; Claude thinks that that very <em>human</em> sense of community can really only be found where there <em>are</em> people, like the local marketplace. Would Dimitri be willing to place his trust in Claude? To set aside any frustrations with people for a leisure stroll through the place? Or would exposing Dimitri to too many people only worsen his feelings for them?</p><p>Well, there’s only one way to find out.</p><p>“Hey, Dimitri. How would you feel about a visit to the marketplace?”  </p><p>Dimitri frowns. “The marketplace?”</p><p>Dimitri lifts his gaze to where Claude gestures to, follows the trodden dirt path leading to the heart of the village, where several stalls filled to the brim with fruits and vegetables and homemade goods are presented. Even from where they stand, they can both hear the crowd of villagers chatting and haggling, a soft murmur in the background of village life that’s accompanied by the sound of farm animals and kids playing.</p><p>Dimitri looks back at Claude, clearly unamused.</p><p>“It won’t be too bad. Promise.” Claude smiles in what he hopes is a soothing manner. “You won’t have to talk to anyone. I won’t make you talk to anyone. Promise. We’re just going to go in, shop a bit, and get going. In and out. Sound okay?”</p><p>Dimitri crosses his arms. “You wish to spend what little time you have with me—and what little time you have of your life—<em>shopping</em>,” he deadpans.</p><p>“Sure, if you want to look at it like that.” Claude folds his arms behind his head. “Or we can just stand here until I think of something else to do.” A beat of silence. “Could be a while.” Another pause. “Who knows? We might have to stand in this one spot all day.” And another pause. “Or weeks. All six months, even.”</p><p>Dimitri growls. “Enough. If you’re going to waste your time in the marketplace, it isn’t my place to object.”</p><p>Claude perks up. “What, so you’ll come?”</p><p>“As if I have a choice.”</p><p>Claude laughs. “Great. Come on. I’ll show you around. All you have to do is just come with me and pay attention, and I’ll take care of the rest.”</p><p>As they step onto the paved stone of the marketplace, Dimitri following Claude closely behind with his head hanging low and his glare a touch <em>sharp </em>at anyone who looks at him<em>, </em>Claude begins a leisurely walk, whistling a tune he picked up during his travels. He makes sure to pick paths around others that leave enough room around the fickle god.</p><p>While they walk, haggling and local gossip, hearty laughter and chatter, the sounds of a few artisans at work at their stalls—it all fills the air around them. On top of it all, a few people call out to them.</p><p>"Hey, traveler! How about picking up some souvenirs to take home?"</p><p>"Hey, hey! Your cape looks roughed up, son! How about letting this little old lady work her magic on it?" </p><p>"Hungry? Try these meat buns! They're great! Just made 'em!" </p><p>Claude’s eyes are helplessly drawn to the goods presented, much to what Claude assumes is Dimitri’s dismay. He takes his time walking along the stalls of the marketplace, looking at fruits, vegetables, clothes, art, weapons, woodwork...</p><p>The glint of shiny coats of paint atop interesting shapes cut into wood catch Claude's eye. </p><p>“Oh, look! This place is selling wood carvings.” </p><p>Dimitri stops behind Claude and rather than standing beside him, he simply peers over his shoulder, a stark reminder of how much taller Dimitri is than Claude. It’s a little threatening, but at the same time, Claude wonders how they look to others. They must look ridiculous—a tall man clad in dark clothes with even darker eye bags, and a shorter man dressed brightly with an even brighter smile.</p><p>He smiles a bit to himself at the thought.</p><p>Claude holds up a little wood carving of a slender deer, head held high. “Pretty nice, right?”</p><p>Dimitri stares at the wood carving for a second. He squints at it, as if the tinier details are obscuring some sort of universal secret. When he inevitably finds nothing, he narrows his eye and frowns. “And what exactly does this prove?”</p><p>Claude blinks. He looks down at the carving and then back up to Dimitri. Then, he shrugs with a small grin. “Nothing. I just thought it was cool.”</p><p>Dimitri lets out a small puff through his nostrils, clearly unamused.</p><p>"Listen, Dimitri, not everything has to be related to our mission. Lighten up. Live in the moment a little, will you? It'll be a lot more enjoyable for both of us like that."</p><p>Dimitri gives him a flat look. “All I am hearing from you is that you intend to waste my time in the coming months.”</p><p>“<em>Our </em>time,” Claude corrects. “I'm going to be wasting <em>our</em> time. Your time is also mine now." A small pause. "But if you really want me to, I can try to spin this into something to make you think.” Claude doesn’t bother waiting for Dimitri’s inevitably bitter reply.</p><p>Claude places the wooden deer carving down, balancing it atop the pile of other carvings. His fingers linger over a small carving of a lion. He picks it up and turns it around between his fingers and examines it, admiring the carefully whittled slopes and points.</p><p>“Don’t you think it’s pretty cool a person can make these? It’s a talent that we’ve cultivated throughout all of human history and passed on to our descendants. I think that it’s pretty admirable that we taught ourselves to do this to tell stories and art to share with others.”</p><p>“Talent? Admirable? Oh, please,” Dimitri bites back immediately. He turns up his nose at Claude. “Any half-developed monkey can achieve the same results with a stick and a sharp rock.”</p><p>Claude winces internally when he notices the owner of the stall shoot Dimitri a dirty look. He clears his throat sheepishly and ignores the scathing look the artisan is now aiming at him.</p><p>“Then could <em>you </em>make something like this?” Claude asks. “If I gave you a stick and a rock?”</p><p>“Why would I ever want to?”</p><p>“Just for fun. Maybe to feel something other than doom and gloom. I heard that making art can really help clear up your head—and I think you could probably use something to distract you from your whole ‘hating all humans’ thing.”</p><p>Dimitri dismissively grunts but offers no other words.</p><p>“Anyway, my point isn’t about how it looks. My point is that wood carving is something that humans been using as a storytelling mechanism. A form of art that we’ve been collectively sharing and passing on to others throughout the ages. Go to any place in Fodlan, and you’ll find different kinds of carvings with different stories—but wood carving is something all of us are familiar with. Because we want share our thoughts and experiences with other humans.”</p><p>Dimitri pauses, as if to consider what Claude’s saying to him. He stares at the lion. He looks down at the basket full of other wooden carvings, at the little deer Claude perched atop the pile. Then he looks back to Claude. </p><p>“This does nothing for me.”</p><p>“Yeah, I figured as much.”</p><p>Claude casts his glance down at the lion carving again as he moves to place it back. Just as he places it on the pile of wooden carvings, he pauses. He stares at the lion in more detail.</p><p>The little lion fiercely bares its sharp teeth, its shaggy, bright mane framing its fury-riddled face. Claude picks up the lion again and turns to face Dimitri. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>Claude holds it next to Dimitri’s face and bites back a grin.</p><p>Dimitri stares at it and makes a face of disgust, flashing his sharp canines. “What are you doing?” he demands. “What kind of buffoonery is this?”</p><p>Claude lets out a laugh. As much as he wants to stop and move on, he can’t help how his eyes dart between the lion in his hand and the god staring at him. He laughs a little more.</p><p>“Explain yourself,” Dimitri demands, practically raising his hackles like a cat, which only furthers Claude’s amusement. “Stop laughing and explain what you are doing.”</p><p>Claude shakes his head as he comes down from his laughter. “It’s nothing important. It’s just that it looks like you.”</p><p>Dimitri glares sharply.</p><p>“Relax. I didn't mean it as an insult.” Claude turns the carving around to show Dimitri the face of the lion. “Your hair is messy like this lion’s mane and you two have the same angry expression on all the time." Claude smiles again. "Little lion Dimitri," he teases.</p><p>An odd look passes through Dimitri’s eye when he looks at the lion again, a thoughtful look, a look that reminds Claude of how his friends’ eyes will light up with recognition and maybe even longing when he brings up older times. Underlying frustrations and apathy melt away from Dimitri's hardened gaze.It's a look that completely and utterly <em>baffles </em>Claude.</p><p>Claude feels intrigue pawing desperately at his brain.</p><p>“Dimitri?” Claude cocks his head. “Is something wrong?”</p><p>He rewinds all that he had said, but the only thing that he thinks could have warranted such a reaction is his <em>little lion Dimitri </em>comment. But what’s wrong with that? Is it offensive? Is it weird?</p><p>Claude supposes it can be construed as a little weird, but he honestly meant it more as a compliment than an insult—a compliment to both the artisan for catching such a realistic expression on wood and a semi-compliment to Dimitri for resembling a lion, a symbol of strength and even royalty.</p><p>But upon further inspection, Claude finds that Dimitri doesn’t look upset.</p><p>He just looks thoughtful. Reverent? Nostalgic? </p><p>“It wasn't meant as an insult, Dimitri. I mean it."</p><p>The moment ends just as quickly as it came. The look leaves Dimitri's eye; his lips turn down into a frown; his shoulder hunch forward again.</p><p>Dimitri silently leans forward, plucks the lion from Claude’s hand, and carelessly tosses it back into the basket of carvings. It knocks the deer over and falls into the rest of the carvings with ease, reminding Claude a bit of how a lion pounces on its prey.</p><p>“I know,” Dimitri says, "but it’s useless to cling to that. And it is another waste of our time.”</p><p>Claude looks back at the lion, now mixed in a pile of similar looking wooden carvings of other animals and other shapes. It's hard to see it now, as if it is trying to hide itself amidst all the other wood carvings.</p><p>"I wasn't clinging to it, Dimitri."</p><p><em>But what are</em> you<em> clinging to?</em> Claude wonders to himself.</p><p>When he looks back to Dimitri, he finds that the god is walking away from the wood carvings stand. Claude blinks—<em>Dimitri’s voluntarily walking around the marketplace despite the number of people here?</em>—but he hurriedly runs after him.</p><p>“Hey, Dimitri! Wait up! I’m leading our lessons here, remember?”</p><p>-</p><p>Claude notices that after the incident with the lion carving, Dimitri is a little more receptive to listening to Claude about the marketplace’s offerings. It's subtle, as he still bears the same dead look as always, but he seems to be paying attention now at the very least. </p><p>And his scathing, dismissive comments are slightly less dismissive, though they are still followed with a scoff or an unimpressed look, but Claude will take it. Any progress is progress.</p><p>As the duo wander the marketplace, Claude explains what he can of humans using the examples of the market around him. He points out the examples of people being people, like where a few people are giving to the poor and where stand owners are happily engaging in conversation with their customers, cutting them deals, and so on.</p><p>But honestly, Claude knows it’s nothing too substantial by any means.</p><p>Eventually, after Claude grabs himself and Dimitri a small meal at the local tavern—Claude notes that Dimitri hardly touches the food, almost as if it disgusts him—the sun starts to set.</p><p>Claude stretches his arms out over his arm and lets out a small, content sigh. “Well, I think I’ll stop bothering you with this little village for today. Let’s head out.”</p><p>Dimitri raises an eyebrow. “Out? To where?”</p><p>Claude gives a small shrug. “Elsewhere. You didn’t think we’d stay here the whole time, did you?” At Dimitri’s silence, Claude adds, “How could I show you the greatest parts of humanity from some small place like this?”</p><p>"I suppose you couldn't."</p><p>"Exactly."</p><p>Claude looks over at a livery stable he had noticed earlier.</p><p>“Come on. Let’s take some horses. It’ll be faster to the next town like this.”</p><p>Claude heads over to the stable, knowing that Dimitri will follow him. Walking up to a the nearest stablehand, Claude waits until she finishes brushing a horse until speaking up.</p><p>“Hey, I need to rent two of your horses.”</p><p>She frowns and looks out at the horizon. “It’s late. Wouldn’t it be safer to stay here for the night?”</p><p>“It’s okay. I don’t mind traveling at night.”</p><p>“Are you sure? I know of an inn, and if you say that I sent you, they’ll cut you a deal!” She pauses a beat, looks around, and then adds, “I can probably get a handsome guy like you in for free, if you want. I know the owner.”</p><p>“You flatter me.” Claude laughs. “A free night at the inn—a compelling offer! But I think I’ll have to pass.”</p><p>The stablehand shrugs. “If you say so.”</p><p>As she starts to rattle off a few costs and rules, Claude’s eyes wander to Dimitri. He seems rather interested in the horses, subtly trying to near one to touch it with his gloved hand. But the horse backs away. When Dimitri steps forward, the horse rears back and neighs loudly, drawing even the attention of the stablehand.</p><p>"H-hey! Just what do you think you’re doing?” The stablehand hurries over. “Leave my horses alone, you!”</p><p>Dimitri gives the stablehand a dark look, one that makes her flinch a little. Uh oh.</p><p>Claude rushes over and steps between the stablehand and Dimitri. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s with me. He probably startled them. That’s all.”</p><p>“My horses don’t startle!” she huffs at him, turning to the horse and gently stroking it along its nose to calm it. “They’re the calmest, gentlest, kindest horses on this side of the mountains! I don’t know what you or your scary friend did, but—”</p><p>“I didn’t do anything,” Dimitri growls, his shoulders tensing.</p><p>“Clearly, you did! Look at how scared she is!”</p><p>Claude butts in. “Hey, it was only an accident. I’m sorry. He’s sorry too. Aren’t you, Dimitri?”</p><p>Dimitri aims his fierce glare at Claude. Claude is unmoved.</p><p>“Just apologize to the nice lady and her horse, Dimitri, so we can rent them and go,” Claude adds in a hissed whisper.</p><p>Dimitri lets out a small huff. But when he looks at the frustrated woman and her wide-eyed horse, and when he sees the worried look that Claude is giving the woman, he seems to concede a little on his anger. “I am sorry,” he says, though his annoyance is still clear in his eyes.</p><p>“There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Claude smiles.</p><p>“I’ll destroy you.”</p><p>The stablehand mulls over Dimitri’s apology and smiles. “Well, as long as you can recognize your mistake, it’s okay.” Dimitri bristles. “It’s only human to make mistakes, right? So I’ll respect you for owning up to it. And I’m sorry too. I overreacted a little.”</p><p><em>You’re not kidding,</em> Claude thinks, but he lets out a breath of relief.</p><p>“So how about we finish up our discussion about renting the horses?”</p><p>Claude makes sure to grab Dimitri by the wrist and have him stand right next to him as he speaks with the stablehand. Dimitri still stares at the horses, though the frustration fades from his eyes.</p><p>If anything, Claude think that he looks a little sad.</p><p>When Claude clears up all the details and costs with the stablehand, he rents them and buys a few bags of food to last the horses a few days. She leads Claude and Dimitri over to the horses. When Dimitri walks by, the horses startle again, neighing and nearly trampling one another to get away from him.</p><p>“They don’t seem very calm,” Claude muses.</p><p>“I’m sorry. Gosh, they weren’t like this before! I wonder what’s gotten into them.”</p><p>Claude wanders towards the horses and calms them to get a better look at them. He doesn’t particularly have a preference, so he picks one that looks big and healthy. Holding it by the reigns, he looks to Dimitri.</p><p>“Okay, Dimitri. I have mine, so you pick yours.”</p><p>Dimitri frowns. “Are you daft? It is obvious that they can’t stand me. It’d be best if you picked one for yourself. I will walk.”</p><p>The stablehand blinks. “You plan to share a horse? That’s not a bad idea, but you’ll both be tired—”</p><p>“I will <em>walk.</em> I do not tire.”</p><p>She stares.</p><p>Claude sighs. “Dimitri, I already paid for your horse. So go ahead and pick one.”</p><p>“Are you that eager to throw your money away?”</p><p>“I’m eager to leave.”</p><p>“Fine. Then this one.” Dimitri sighs and points randomly at a horse.</p><p>Claude notices that it’s the same horse that he startled earlier. Is that a coincidence?</p><p>The stablehand retrieves the horse and tries to bring her towards Dimitri. She rears back and neighs, kicking up a fuss. The stablehand struggles to hold onto her.</p><p>“Maybe a different one?” she says with a sheepish smile.</p><p>“No, it’s okay. He picked that one, so let’s just try it.” Claude walks over and trades reigns with the stablehand. He takes the wild horse and calms her, shushing her and petting her. When she seems sufficiently soothed, Claude nods at Dimitri. “Okay. Now come here, Dimitri.”</p><p>“Are you crazy?” the stablehand asks, wide-eyed. “You’re going to get yourself and your friend hurt!”</p><p>“It’s okay,” he insists. “I’m holding onto her.” Claude nods at Dimitri. “Come here.”</p><p>Dimitri doesn’t move, but he looks a little shocked.</p><p>“Fine. I guess I’ll come to you.”</p><p>Claude tugs at the reigns, despite the horse’s desperate and frantic cries. Claude forces himself to step forward, one foot in front of the other. He dodges hard kicks and barely misses getting knocked on the head by her large, swinging head, but he clings to the reigns with all his might. But with every little step he manages forward, Dimitri mirrors him, hesitantly nearing them.</p><p>Until finally, Dimitri and Claude are standing in front of one another.</p><p>Claude doesn’t realize that the horse has stopped bucking and crying out until Dimitri extends his arm and gently strokes the horse’s neck. He’s more focused on the <em>tiny</em> smile gracing Dimitri’s face.</p><p>The horse still seems rather uncomfortable, huffing and trembling a little, but after a little bit, the horse seems to relax. Dimitri takes the reigns from Claude.</p><p>"What just happened?” the stablehand asks.</p><p>“I’m not sure myself,” Claude says.</p><p>The stablehand shakes her head, resting her fists on her hips. She smiles gently. “Well, horses can sense your emotions, you know. Maybe your friend’s emotions spooked the horses, and since he’s calmer now, the horse feels safer.”</p><p>Claude stares at Dimitri, still petting the horse.</p><p><em>Was Dimitri uneasy? </em>Claude thinks to himself. <em>What for? What changed?</em></p><p>-</p><p>Night starts to fall about an hour into their travel. Claude and Dimitri ride out of the village in relative silence, one marked with the sounds of clipping and clopping of horse hooves along the well-traveled dirt trail. </p><p>“So,” Claude muses, looking over at Dimitri, “what was that about?”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>"You know—everything that just happened at that stable.”</p><p>Dimitri looks at the trail ahead, notably avoiding Claude’s gaze. The pause before he speaks is unbearably long—and leads Claude onto thinking that he won’t even respond. Why would he? Dimitri seems rather averse to opening up about anything.</p><p>But he replies.</p><p>"I happen to like horses. But they do not seem to like me.”</p><p>Claude blinks. “Were you nervous about riding one?”</p><p>“In a sense.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>Dimitri sighs. “Have you nothing better to do that ask me questions? Plan the rest of our route properly. Take stock of your food and belongings.”</p><p>“Did that earlier. Up here.” Claude taps his temple with his index finger and smiles a little. “So I have some free time on my hands.” A brief pause. “So you were scared about riding a horse?”</p><p>Dimitri sighs again. “Not particularly. I enjoy riding. It’s just been some time since I last rode. The last time—” Dimitri sets his jaw, his expression turning dark, “hadn’t particularly ended well for me.”</p><p>Claude's surprised with Dimitri's honesty. He was expecting Dimitri to make another death threat, maybe tell him to just shut his mouth for a minute or something.</p><p>“What happened? Did you fall off or something?” Claude smiles. “Hey, it happens to the best of us. One of my horses dragged me around the yard before. It took a bit before anyone could stop the horse and get me away from it.”</p><p><em>But to be fair, I had been tied to it against my will, </em>Claude thinks flatly.</p><p>“It wasn’t a fun time,” Claude adds needlessly, his lax grin still on his face. “Lots of scrapes and bruises.”</p><p>Dimitri doesn’t reply. Must be a sore subject.</p><p>“How about a different question then? Indulge me?”</p><p>Dimitri pinches the bridge of his nose. “Speak,” he says anyway.</p><p>“Do you also like lions?”</p><p>Dimitri stares at Claude.</p><p>“Little lions? Lion cubs, maybe?”</p><p>“And why are you asking me this?”</p><p>Claude shrugs. “You seemed to like it when I compared you to one earlier.”</p><p>Dimitri bristles. “I did <em>not</em>,” he hisses.</p><p>“You <em>seemed</em> to,” Claude stresses.</p><p>“Well, you are completely and utterly <em>mistaken</em>. I hold no strong feelings towards nor against lions. It is just another, ordinary animal.”</p><p>“Horses are just animals too.”</p><p>Dimitri doesn’t reply.</p><p>Claude lets another beat pass, looking around their moonlight-kissed surroundings. Dimitri notices Claude looking around and copies him, looking quite tense. When he spots nothing putting them in danger, his guard drops a touch. He sighs.</p><p>“You’re going to ask something me vapid again, aren’t you?” Dimitri deadpans.</p><p>“Nah. I was just going to ask if you wanted to stop for the night. Get some rest.”</p><p>“Vapid. You know that I need no rest by now.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I do.”</p><p>Dimitri looks forward at the trail. “If you need to stop, then say so.”</p><p>Claude hums. “Then let’s get some rest.”</p><p>Dimitri pauses. He looks around at the woods lining the path they tread on. “Here?”</p><p>Already pulling his horse to a stop at the side of the trail, Claude nods. “Yeah. I’ve spent some of my time sleeping in the woods from time to time, so I don’t mind.”</p><p>“I suppose it makes sense that a traveler would have experience taking shelter in various places.”</p><p>Claude leads Dimitri and their horses deeper into the woods before finding a clearing. He gets to work, quickly setting a fire and pulling out a blanket to make into a makeshift bed. But before Claude settles in for bed, he sits in front of the fire with Dimitri, who stares into the flames.</p><p><em>What a tiring day,</em> Claude thinks. <em>And this is only day one.</em></p><p>Remembering that this is but the first of days in their trek together makes an odd weariness fall upon Claude’s bones. But at the same time, he feels hopeful. He’s seen very, <em>very</em> subtle changes in Dimitri. As long as he can keep up those subtle changes and get Dimitri more and more sympathetic, he might be able to tear apart Dimitri’s horrible thoughts of humans—and he might be able to protect people who just want to cross through Ailell.</p><p>But first, maybe Claude should get some feedback from the god himself.</p><p>“What’d you think of today?” Claude prompts quietly, his voice just barely audible over the sound of the flame crackling.</p><p>“It was about what I expected,” Dimitri replies without lifting his gaze. “Tiring. Odd. Frustrating.”</p><p>“Did you learn anything?”</p><p>“About humans as a whole? No. But I am learning that you are a strange man.”</p><p>Claude laughs. “Weren’t you already thinking that? Anyway, I’m as weird as the next guy. You live with humans for a while, and you find some strange people—stranger than me.”</p><p>“I suppose.”</p><p>“So you still think humans are terrible.”</p><p>“Why wouldn’t I?”</p><p>“Alright, then we’ll go for a different approach next.”</p><p>Dimitri doesn’t reply.</p><p>“Just make sure you’re here by sometime early tomorrow morning. We’ll need to do some traveling before we get to the next city, and the earlier we head out, the more time I’ll have to show you around.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Okay then. I’m going to head in for the night.” Claude lets out a yawn. “Good night.”</p><p>Claude settles into his makeshift bed, rolling around a little to find a comfortable spot, and then shuts his eyes. He hardly has time to think about what he'll do before exhaustion sets in and sleep pulls him in. Before long, he's peacefully snoring.</p><p>Meanwhile, Dimitri continues to sit by the fire and wait for morning, now staring up at the moon.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oooo more somewhat cryptic reactions from dimitri! all will be revealed in *checks notes* like a billion chapters idk lol but <i>eventually</i>! :^)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Characterizing Dimitri for this fic was kind of hard o o;; I had to tone him down a little, which is why he isn't actively trying to murder Claude, but I hope he seems okay. ^^;; I've never really written Dimitri before, other than a few cameos in other fics. <s>My struggle with his characterization is also the reason I had to cut out some fun little banter that my OCs had in the original version of this story, orz</s></p><p>We'll get a better introduction with Dimitri in the next chapter! <s>no more writing out 'the god,' skjdflsdjf god bless</s> </p><p>Thank you for reading! c:</p></blockquote></div></div>
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